


Compathy

by icandrawamoth



Series: February Ficlet Challenge 2018 [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Fusion of Star Wars Legends and Disney Canon, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Battle of Yavin, this was meant to be shippy but didn't quite get there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 20:16:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13578168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Wedge should leave. He should give Luke his space – it's clearly the reason he's hiding in here rather than back at the party or in the barracks – but he doesn't. Instead, he steps inside, closes the door behind him, and sits next to Luke. He thinks maybe if they're both hurting, they might hurt a little less if they do it together.





	Compathy

**Author's Note:**

> For Ficlet February Challenge prompt "hiding in a closet."
> 
> _compathy: noun. feelings, as happiness or grief, shared with another or others. (Dictionary.com)_

Wedge stays in the hanger making himself participate in the celebrations for as long as he can bear. People are shouting in excitement, insisting the Rebellion has the Empire on the ropes. Jet juice flows, Command turning a blind eye to this violation of protocol as most of them accept cups of their own. Wedge takes one as well when it's pressed into his hand and drinks deep, hoping it will dull some of what he's feeling – too many things. A strange combination of victory and defeat, pride and loss.

Then Col and the rest of the Red Squadron pilots who hadn't been able to fly today pull him aside and start slapping him on the back with congratulations and asking for dramatic reenactments of the maneuvers he'd pulled out there during the battle. It makes him smile a little, their kind words and enthusiasm, but he demures for the most part, insisting that it was Luke who did the most important work. It was Luke who destroyed the Death Star and saved them all.

They seem to get after awhile that he isn't in the mood to talk and wander off in search of better company. Somewhere, someone has set up a music player, and jaunty tunes begin to echo through the hanger. Wedge stands in the shadow of his X-wing and watches as Solo pulls the princess in for a dance, and her protests soon give way to giggles as she lets him lead her across the floor. Others are quick to join in, and it almost seems like a real party.

Wedge turns to leave. His heart isn't in it, and it just hurts more to watch them be happy. Not that he blames them, of course he doesn't. He's always been someone who takes losses harder than others. His remaining squadronmates are honoring the lost by celebrating the lives they still have, the lives those sacrifices allow them to still have. That's just not something Wedge can do. He needs someplace quiet to think and mourn in peace.

He makes his way down the hall toward the barracks, already beginning to shuck his life support and flak vest, when he hears a noise and stops suddenly. He looks around, but the corridor is empty. Then the sound comes again, a sort of ragged exhalation, and Wedge knows he should leave it, but for some reason he finds himself stepping to the door on his left, pushing the release button.

It slides open to reveal a small supply closet, and inside is Luke Skywalker, hero of the Battle of Yavin, last hope of the Jedi, sitting on a dusty crate with his head in his hands, crying. He looks up when the door opens, wet streaks down his face, shock in his eyes at being caught.

“Wedge-”

Wedge should leave. He should give Luke his space – it's clearly the reason he's hiding in here rather than back at the party or in the barracks – but he doesn't. Instead, he steps inside, closes the door behind him, and sits next to Luke. Wedge stares at his own hands, not knowing what to say. He thinks maybe if they're both hurting, they might hurt a little less if they do it together.

“I should be happy,” Luke says eventually, and his voice is more even than Wedge would have expected. “Everyone keeps saying I'm a hero. If I was really a hero, more people would still be alive.”

“It was your first time flying with us. No one would have expect you to save anyone.” The words are too familiar, an echo of those spoken to Wedge himself years ago. They hadn't helped him either.

“I know that. But all those people-” he sniffles, looks at Wedge with teary blue eyes. “I didn't even get the chance to know them. I feel bad, because I just keep thinking about Biggs. I was so happy he was here, and now I'm never going to see him again, because he died so I could make that shot.”

“They all did,” Wedge says and realizes he's talking to himself as much as Luke. “Each of them was like you or me: willing to do whatever we have to in order to take the Empire down. No one ever wants to die, but if we have to, we're ready.”

“And we're still here because of them,” Luke says heavily. “I don't have a right to cry.”

“It's not wrong to miss them, Luke,” Wedge says. He's blinking heavily himself now as he thinks of them. He's never going to hear Zal laugh again at one of her own stupid jokes or see Biggs's smile as he tells another story about his adventures growing up on Tatooine. The hole in his heart where his friends should be aches.

A tear drips on his hand, and Wedge flinches. Maybe he's not as comfortable crying in front of Luke as he thought. Then there's another hand covering his, pulling it away, and Wedge is sniffling as he looks up through watery eyes to see Luke still gazing at him.

“It's not wrong to miss them,” Luke repeats softly, and Wedge can only nods as tears run down his face. Luke squeezes his hand.


End file.
